Cormac McCarthy died yesterday. He wrote the best-written book I’ve ever read, though not the most enjoyable.
I tend to seek out writers who aren’t afraid to face life’s darkness, which means I often read authors who write dark stories. I enjoy William Goldman (his novels and his screenplays), and found Apocalypse Now a challenging but enjoyable romp. Some readers who’ve seen my articles for The Oddest Inkling and Mythlore will know I’m not opposed to exploring horror stories.
However, I hadn’t quite gotten to Cormac McCarthy before my book club decided to read Blood Meridian. Over Christmas. As you can imagine, this proved to be interesting.
More surprising was the moment I discovered my copy of Blood Meridian had several pages of another author’s work misprinted in it. It turned out to be a printing error, not a literary fiction trick.
When I finished Blood Meridian I had a few impressions (for more on that, see the article below). Mostly, I came away thinking, “this is one of the strangest, most memorable things I’ve ever read. And I’m not sure I care for its take on the American West.”
That doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy reading it. It got me thinking, gave me ideas, and I hope made me a better writer (even though I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to emulate McCarthy’s style). The best writers may not leave us with a vision we agree with, but they leave us with something useful and memorable that makes us bigger readers, bigger people.
Anyway, you can read my full impressions in the article below for Fellowship & Fairydust,
G. Connor Salter 